


Here.

by Toni1



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 10x06, Fluff, Ian's POV, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life, rating is T because Mickey curses, scene filler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21806011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toni1/pseuds/Toni1
Summary: The Gallavich scenes in 10x06 were sweet but brief, so I took it upon myself to write a little filler. Taking place after Mickey came crashing through Ian's window but before Ian's PO showed up. Just pure fluff. Ian is a smitten kitten.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 8
Kudos: 171





	Here.

They were still catching their breath, the sheets were turning sticky from their sweat, and all Ian could smell was Mickey – his own, familiar Mickey, the smell that hadn't lingered in this room in ages, it felt – and Ian couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Not that he even tried.

Mickey stirred next to him, his arm rubbing Ian's side.

”Okay, my withdrawals are seriously catching up with me. You have any smokes in here?”

Ian nodded towards the bedside table and watched with a fascination how the muscles in Mickey's shoulders and back moved while he reached for the smokes. He reached out to touch his boyfriend's skin, but Mickey rolled back on his back and Ian's hand was caught uncomfortably under him, they both wriggled and turned and searched for a comfortable position till they found it. The bed was nowhere near big enough for them, and Ian wondered how in the world they had been able to sleep in it on regular basis once upon a time – but then again, they had been just kids then, and overwhelmed with the closeness they were able to share finally.

Mickey took a deep breath from the cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nostrils in a way that had always reminded Ian of a dragon. A tiny dragon, not any like Smaug, more like Puff the Magic Dragon, but Ian liked his teeth enough to not mention this association to Mickey.

”So what's the deal with all the Mexicans? You gotta tell me, man, they are freaking me the fuck out”, Mickey said and ran his knuckles across Ian's chest. Ian smiled, like a doofus, but he couldn't help it.

”They're harmless. Carl's got the hots for this girl, Anne, and invited her and her family to live here for a while.”

”So they haven't been sent here after my ass by the cartel?”

”No”, Ian promised and stole the smoke between Mickey's fingers to take a drag. The act, too, was familiar. It was good. ”They're cool. They play this Mexican music and make tamales. And watch some weird telenovelas on the TV.”

”Hey, don't judge telenovelas till you've tried them, Gallagher”, Mickey smiled and Ian laughed. The image in his head was so clear: Mickey sitting in his Mexican apartment on his day off, eating ice cream and binge watching telenovelas with his half deaf landlady and her six cats.

”Okay, maybe you can educate me about them sometime.”

”You can bet your ass I will. Shit, I still don't know if Ricardo made it after his evil identical twin brother kidnapped him.”

Ian shook his head slightly and placed the cigarette back between Mickey's lips. Silence fell around them. There was clutter of voices coming from outside and downstairs – Ian registered a few words here and there, and wondered if Mickey was able to follow the Spanish conversations with ease. Fred let out a small cry in Lip's room, but it didn't last long, Tami was probably there with him. Ian tried to shut all that outside and buried his face in the crook of Mickey's neck. He breathed in the smell. He listened to Mickey. Not that he said anything, but there were these little noises that Ian was able to hear when he really listened. The way Mickey took a drag and blew it out, the way his hair rustled against the pillow, his breath, his heartbeat. The sweetest lullaby, Ian was sure.

”Man, time has really stopped here, hasn't it?” Mickey asked in a silent voice, and Ian didn't really know if the question was meant for him or just for Mickey himself. He raised his face anyway.

”What do you mean?” he asked and watched as Mickey's eyes moved over the room.

”I mean, this room has really stayed the same. The posters on the walls are the same, all the furniture, fuck, even these sheets feel the same as they used to. And there's that one fucking stain that Carl made still on the ceiling.”

Ian followed Mickey's gaze.

”Yeah.”

Suddenly the silence felt heavy. It screamed of the years lost, the illness, the bitterness, the miles and the what-ifs, and it screamed right to Ian's ears and sat on his chest. It had sat there many times, and screamed so loud that he couldn't hear anything else, but now Mickey was next to him, and grunted as he turned to put off the smoke on the ashtray next to the bed, and that low grunt was everything Ian needed to be saved from the screaming. He looked at Mickey, the way he stretched his arms over his head and then scratched his stomach, and all felt light again. No more miles or what-ifs. Just light, right here and right now.

Ian shook himself out of his head and returned the smile on his face.

”Congrats, Mickey. You have finally solved the mystery of the Gallagher house. This is actually a time capsule. Time stops here, and we all only age when we're outside the house.”

”Oh, Jesus, I told you to lay off all the weird-ass sci-fi books in the joint, didn't I?” Mickey scolded but a smile was playing on his lips, showing off his teeth. Some of them were a little crooked. Familiar. Good. Ian couldn't help it, he placed a quick kiss on Mickey's lips.

”Hey, you have no right to judge me, Mr. Telenovelas-aren't-weird.”

”Fuck you”, Mickey said, but his voice was soft and gentle and Ian knew that tone was only reserved for him, and it made his insides feel all squishy and marshmallowy. Man, he was pathetic. He still had it as bad as he did that time Mickey swaggered into Kash'n'Grab and asked for Slim-Jims. But he kind of liked being pathetic. Actually liked it a lot.

He kissed his boyfriend, again, never being able to get enough of those kisses. He guided Mickey to sit on his lap, again ready to drown in all things Mickey, his smell and taste and noises and touches and closeness.


End file.
